


Caregiver

by Sakakura



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Asphyxiation, Character Study, NDRV3 Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakakura/pseuds/Sakakura
Summary: Maki Harukawa doesn’t care.





	Caregiver

Under the bright lights of her laboratory, Maki Harukawa doesn’t even need to aim for her knife to reach its target. It just flies off her hand, an almost melodic _swish_ sound cuts through the air, and then it joins the other countless arrows, darts and other sharp implements that she had already buried in that fake, plastic body.

The question had arisen a few knives ago. It was something she had wondered before, but never thought through. Does the dummy in front of her—the dummy, the pincushion, the target—feel pain?

 _Pathetic._ The voice inside her head, that voice that was unmistakably hers, shuts down her reasoning in an instant. Things are inanimate, unfeeling. Even if the sight of it feels so real, so familiar. So nostalgic. It’s just a replica, a stand-in, she idly scolds herself.

Her hand feels around for another throwing knife, and she’s almost relieved when she finally grabs one of them by the handle.

...Even if it does feel pain…

She steadies her hand. As she aims, there’s no hesitation in her. A gun is made to be fired, a sword is made to cut down enemies. The dummy was made for a reason, and so was she.

So that’s why, even if it feels any pain…

...Maki Harukawa doesn’t care.

She barely registers the dull sound of the dummy’s head being blown away by the impact.

* * *

 

“Do whatever you want.”

And so he does. And she knows what he’s up to, and he knows that she knows.

Hoshi’s motive video is still sitting sound and safe in her room, which she hasn’t been to for days now. If the question was whether or not she watched it—she didn’t. She didn’t seek out her own either. Didn’t feel like playing right into this stupid game. For a while now she had already decided that if she was going to escape this godforsaken school, it’d be on no one’s terms but her own.

As her shortest classmate sprints out of the laboratory, she can’t help but be impressed by how fast he is. According to what she’d heard, he’d wiped out a mafia organization all on his own as well. A formidable person for sure, someone to watch out for despite having been so depressed around them all ever since they arrived to Saishuu Academy.

It was logical to assume he’d be fine on his own.

She only realizes that she’s been biting her nails on and off when she bites off too much. It doesn’t hurt, really—she’s been trained to leave notions like “physical pain” behind anyway—but it does frustrate her all the same. There’s no reason to be wondering if she did the right thing or not. What’s done is done, and there’s no taking it back. Her own secrets were on the line, after all.

Right or wrong, beneficial or not, it doesn’t matter.

Because Maki Harukawa doesn’t care.

* * *

 

She hates the part of her that is slightly relieved that the only person who knows her secret is dead.

Of course, it’s not like she killed him herself. It’s not like she wished him dead either, but from a logical point of view, this means she’s safe. The more information she can withhold from everyone, the better. This way, she can keep an advantage.

The screams of her classmates and the grotesque way in which the piranhas—with their stomachs bulging out, blood on their small deadly teeth, lifeless eyes staring, staring—flail on the floor with the last of their strength don’t faze her. The talk about investigating, about culprits and trials, those are also totally lost on her.

“Gonta... doesn’t want to do this anymore.” Her classmate struggles to get the words out while sniffling, looking almost like he’s going to pass out. “I don’t want to investigate a friend’s death… or have to doubt our other friends.”

“In that case, don’t bother with it.” She cuts in, sharp, cold. “I’ve got no intentions of sticking around either.”

She hears Saihara calling out to her retreating back, but she doesn’t turn around. It’s not like she’d be of any use anyway. After all, even though it’s right there, she hasn’t been able to look at Hoshi’s body once.

...That too, of course, is because Maki Harukawa doesn’t care.

* * *

 

“The truth is, I found out, too. About Harukawa-chan’s ‘true identity.’”

That’s all it had taken for her to go from zero to a hundred, from observer to participant. She couldn’t help getting riled up.

 _Pathetic._ Her own voice whispers again as she crushes Ouma’s windpipe with her bare hands.

It’d seemed a good idea at the time. No, it still feels like the right thing to do. With his throat in her hands, she allows herself to lash out, to feel that anger, that regret, that fear. How much of this anger is directed at the classmate she’s choking half to death, and how much of it is her own self-loathing?

Does it matter?

It wasn’t her job to stop Hoshi from dying. It wasn’t her fault that he had asked her for his motive video—demanded it, even. If she had wanted him dead she was more than capable of doing the deed herself. Him dying had been just a side-effect of his curiosity, of his trying to find something to live for. It wasn’t her fault.

 _But still, didn’t this work out perfectly for you?_ That insidious voice in her head chimed in once again. _Weren’t you kind of hoping for it? ‘Ah, what a pain, now he knows too much. Well, if he dies, that’ll surely be a relief. That way no one would know how much I’ve stained my hands.’... Isn’t that about right?_

Ouma grins smugly as she chokes him, almost looking like he heard that voice that was only ever in her head loud and clear, so she tightens her hands around his neck.

“Are you really… g, going to kill me in front of everyone?” The smile on Ouma’s face widens, but his mask is cracking. If she keeps going, she’ll kill him for sure.

And she wants to.

But doing that would be pointless. Reckless. Acting on impulse would get her killed as well.

(For a second she considers doing it anyway. What is ending another life so that hers can end as well? It’s only one more life, and she’s snuffed out countless. No more regret, no more suffering, no more blood on her hands. So much, so much blood. It probably wouldn’t hurt. She’s a tool, a thing, a dummy, and dummies don’t feel pain. But even then—

She shoves that anger, that frustration, that sorrow, that nausea, that hatred, those memories, deep, deep, deep, deep down in her mind.)

Right after he reveals her identity, Ouma falls to the floor with a loud _thud_. Other than him slightly wheezing, there’s no sound from any of her classmates as she turns around and walks ahead. The crowd parts to make way for her, but she won’t look at them.

Saishuu Academy’s very own Super High School Level Assassin walks right ahead, her gaze determined, her head held on high.

Because even after all of this, Maki Harukawa doesn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written in a really long time (a long time meaning years), but I really wanted to try my hand at it once again. I didn't expect my first fanfiction on ao3 to be an exploration of Maki's character but here we are?  
> I hope someone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
